Iwas floating on the high of Saturday night for the entirety of the next five days. No one could tell me anything, and, if they’d tried, I absolutely would not have heard it. Suddenly work felt manageable– enjoyable, even. I could block out Pippa’s passive aggression without even trying. I felt radiant and utterly invincible, existing on a plane of blissful ignorance I’d only heard stories about.
It’s probably why– to the surprise of absolutely everyone– I’ve ended up sitting in the pub after work on Thursday, pressed shoulder to shoulder in a tiny booth with an unbearably chatty Pippa. I only have myself to blame. I was girlbossing too close to the sun to properly register the emptiness of her invite.
Thursday-night drinks are an Abbingtorn tradition that I decided I needed no part in. I tried at first when I was new, because I felt like I had to, but I stopped the second it seemed socially permissible. It tends to be the same sort of crowd– the ‘cool kids’ of the Abbingtorn ecosystem. Pippa, Gus, the marketing boys, and a couple of girls from the design team. Occasionally Maxwell goes along too, and, of course, picks up the tab. I don’t belong to that crowd, nor have I massively wanted to.
That is exactly why Pippa’s eyes widened earlier when she asked, and I immediately said yes. I regretted it the second it left my mouth. But it was too late to take it back. Plus, Aiden was watching and I knew it would count against me if I said no. So,here I am, sitting at the table as they gossip about everything from work drama to their undoubtedly exaggerated sex lives.
The one saving grace? I managed to drag Aiden along with me against his will. He looks just as uncomfortable as I do– more so, perhaps. I saw his eyes practically glaze over from boredom during Pippa’s last sordid tale.
‘Aiden, Maddison, you’ve both been awfully quiet!’ Pippa chirps up as the group chatter comes to a lull. ‘Care to share? Maddison, you’resinglesingle, right?’
She’s holding back a laugh as she delivers the lightly masked insult. She didn’t need to ask; we’ve spoken about this many times. She coined the term ‘singlesingle’ just about me.
‘Single Single’ (Adjective)
1. Entirely single with little to no hope.
2. Not entertaining any talking stages or situationships; completely alone.
3. Maddison Clarke’s perpetual relationship status.
‘Wow, Maddison, you’re, like, single single. I don’t know how that’s even possible nowadays!’
I feel the last of my Saturday night high evaporate from my body.
There’s got to be some way I can get up and leave right this moment without looking like an entire weirdo. A call from a stranded friend, perhaps, or a coronary. Something dire that would necessitate an exit rightnow.
‘Hey, Pippa, isn’t this your song?’ Aiden asks, voice breaking through the silence as he looks over my head to meet Pippa’s eyes. ‘Why aren’t you up there dancing? In fact, why aren’t you all up there?’
Pippa’s smug face lights up at his comment, but it’s honestly nothing special. Everything that has ever been in the top forty is ‘Pippa’s song’. But I bite my tongue, because it has worked unexpected wonders. Suddenly she’s out of her seat, beckoning everyone to the tiny space in the centre of the pub.
‘Aiden, come and join me!’ She purrs this in a voice at least five semitones higher than her usual register.
She reaches across to grab him, an inch away from hitting my face, but he stares at her hand with an unmoving, remorseful smile.
‘I don’t really dance,’ he says. ‘And Maddy here still needs to finish her drink. Can’t leave her all by herself.’
It’s enough to make Pippa re-register my presence, her smile dropping instantly. She regains composure quickly enough, but I saw the slip and she knows I did. I’d put money on her not even remotely caring.
‘Fine, but I’d better see you out there later!’
Then she saunters off to join the rest. I finally exhale, the sound deep and exceptionally loud, much to the amusement of the only other person in the booth. I may not be able to see his face, but I can feel the judgement radiating off it.
‘You’re staring.’ My eyes are still fixed to my glass. ‘Why?’
If he expects a ‘thank you’ for getting Pippa and co to leave the table, then he will be waiting an awfully long time.
‘No real reason. It’s just, you were awfully quiet when everyone was talking about their relationships.’
‘I didn’t realise there were points for participation.’ I turn my head to him this time, watching his lip curl slightly at my weak attempt at some snark. His eyes darken with curiosity.
‘Nothing to contribute?’ He scans my face.
‘Just didn’t feel like sharing with a bunch of acquaintances.’
I counter his stare, taking a swig from my drink as our pupils wrestle for the upper hand. He’s judging just how farhe can push and I’m wondering just how far I’d really let him. Eventually it’s him who breaks, glancing down at his glass for a breather before looking back at me.
‘So, thereisa special someone.’
